I'll Be Your Guide
by Ataraxie
Summary: Eight years after the War... A terrible disease threatens the Wizarding World, and two people are trying to find a cure: Severus Snape and Hermione Granger. Can their relationship grow from friendship... to love? HG/SS - EWE.
1. Chapter 1

_Author's note: no. I'm not giving up on my two other Snamione, **The Assistant** and **Becoming One**. The first one is near the end, while the second is just in the beginnings.  
_

_I'm writting **I'll Be Your Guide** for a kind of French Harry Potter NaNoWriMo, and more than 16 000 words are already written. It will be a kind of triptych (I don't want to use the word 'trilogy' because it's not exactly one). The first part is composed of two chapters, and the next ones will be longer._

_Anyway, this story will be a short one I guess, I don't plan to write more than 40 000 words on this one (and it will be done in the next few weeks with luck). Let's see it like a novel then. I'm trying to find a unconventionnal plot, and I hope that you'll like it. Don't hesitate to let me know what you think. _

_**Statu**s: un-beta'ed, I have to see if my amazing Beta wants to work on this one. :o)_

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**I'll Be Your Guide**

**Part I - Chapter I**

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Feeding bottles: ready. Diapers? Delicately placed in a large bag, near the wipes and the talc. Rose Weasley's toys had suffered the same fate, and it is with a satisfied smile that Hermione Granger quickly closed the bag that she had prepared a few minutes before. A glance at her watch was the origin of the umpteenth sigh of her day which was not yet very advanced. The nurse who cared for Rose since a little over than four months was supposed to pick the little girl up at the stroke of eight, as she usually did. But it was already ten past eight, and Hermione feared not being able to open the bookshop on time.

It was Rose's cries that interrupted her thoughts. Nervously biting her lower lip, Hermione walked to the room of her daughter who had already taken her first feeding bottle of the day earlier. Her face starting to blush since she was screaming her lungs out, Rose held out both arms to meet the warmth of her mother's chest.

"I am here, Rose..." Hermione whispered, gently raising the head of the little girl in the hollow of her shoulder, squeezing her against her chest. A kiss behind her ear was enough to appease her, and Hermione began to rock her daughter.

"Gloria will be here in a couple of minutes," she added, close to Rose's ear. "You do love Gloria, don't you?"

The little girl with the chestnut hair had a delighted smile before burying her face again in her mother's shoulder, embarrassed. The doorbell ended this intimate moment that Hermione loved to share with her daughter, and it is with Rose in her arms and her diaper bag carelessly thrown over her shoulder that she took the direction of the front door, passing through the living room at the same time.

The door opened on the red face of Gloria, a young woman of almost thirty year-old, obviously out of breath.

"I'm so sorry, Hermione, I had to pick up Ethan before Rose," she explained, breathlessly, pointing to the little two year-old boy who was quietly seated in the two-seater stroller.

"It's okay, don't worry," Hermione reassured her with a smile. "I know that you didn't accept in the first place, but if it suits you better, I can totally drop Rose every morning at your place..."

"No, no, no," Gloria interrupted her, gently taking Rose from her mother's arms. "It's not a problem at all, it's my job," she explained proudly. "Isn't is, Rosie?"

Rose smiled at her before putting her head on the shoulder of his nurse, her gaze fixed on her mother, while Gloria took her diaper bag from Hermione's hand.

"Be good, Rose, mom will get you around seven o'clock if everything goes well," she said, sending her a kiss with her fingertips. "I prepared everything, even the feeding bottles," she explained to Gloria's attention.

"Oh, I trust you, Hermione. You are one of the best organized moms I know," she replied, gently depositing Rose in the stroller. "Say goodbye to mom, Rose!"

"Mama!" Rose exclaimed by sending her a kiss too, as Hermione had taught her.

Gloria, Ethan and Rose slipped away in the hallway of the building, and Hermione quietly closed the door behind them, a smile on her face. She took advantage of finally being alone to go to the bathroom to put a final touch of makeup, necessary to give her a little more freshness for the day. Rose had settled down since a long time, but it was true that being a mother was exhausting. A single mother on top of that. A glance at the mirror above the sink told her that her shadows under her eyes were no less visible than yesterday, despite this miracle cream praised by every magazine that she read on her nights of loneliness, Rose already asleep in her cradle. With a sigh, she quickly closed the tube of cream without delicacy and placed it on the sink before going to put her shoes.

To run her own bookshop allowed her a freedom that she couldn't normally afford. To manage her time as she wanted was an important asset, and Hermione couldn't thank her parents enough. Almost a year ago, they had helped her in so many ways. They had given her a considerable sum of money, helping her to build a decent future for herself and Rose. Her first reaction had been, of course, to go looking for a fairly spacious apartment to welcome the both of them. This small three rooms nestled in the outer suburbs of London, over an hour from the capital, was an idea of her mother, and Hermione had fallen in love at first sight. The building was small, since only three homes had taken residence there. Hermione didn't regret this investment, and having chosen to go into exile away from the bustle of London had allowed her to keep enough money aside to carry out a project close to her heart since many years, but that she never had the opportunity to achieve: to open her own bookstore.

The location hadn't been easy to find, since Hermione hadn't wanted to return to London. Her argument was clear and simple: she didn't want to live more than an hour away from work. How would she do if Rose was sick? Her parents hadn't necessarily agreed with this choice, but when, two months after moving into her new apartment with her daughter, she had heard about the retirement of a bookseller at less than fifteen minutes from her home, Hermione hadn't hesitated. She had taken her courage in both hands, and had met with the owner, a certain Edward who looked strangely like Dumbledore. Edward was certainly not as old as the former headmaster of Hogwarts, but his paternal attitude and his sometimes incomprehensible humor reminded her Albus Dumbledore and his half moon glasses in many ways.

They developed some kind of father-daughter relationship with time, and Rose adored him. Thus, Hermione had offered Edward to redeem his business, something the old man had accepted without hesitation.

"It is rare to come across someone as caring as you are, Hermione," he had said to her the day he had given her the keys of the library.

Thus, the former Gryffindor had became the owner of a small bookstore, with the desire and courage that had always characterized her. "Where there's a will, there's a way" she had a habit of repeating like a mantra when the urge to give up became overwhelming. More than once she had been complimented by the customers for the advices that she was always happy to share. This comforted her in the idea that this career choice was definitely a good idea.

Shaking her head to chase those memories , Hermione pulled on her trench coat and left her apartment. She walked over to the car she had bought two months ago, just after obtaining her license. Having grown up in a Muggle environment had significantly helped her not to feel like a total stranger to these habits and customs. This was her life now, she thought, turning the ignition key, ready to face a new day.

**XxX**

"A candy, Severus?," the Healer said in a languid tone.

The sorcerer looked up from his potion, visibly irritated by the rantings of the young woman who gently slipped a Bertie Bott's bean in her mouth, staring at him.

"It will not be necessary, Miss," he managed to whisper before turning his attention to the potion gently simmering in the cauldron.

"You know, I have a foolproof method to avoid falling on a treacherous Bean," she continued, approaching him, crunching the candy at the same time.

"I do not doubt it," Severus muttered, giving her a sidelong glance.

Samantha was not his favorite colleague, far from it. The eyes full of desire that she used to throw him since his arrival at St. Mungo's hospital a little more than six months earlier made him increasingly uncomfortable, and he couldn't understand why. Why did this young woman, ten years his junior, keep making him advances after he has made it clear in a thousand possible ways that he was not interested? She was highly desirable, Severus didn't deny it. Her long blond hair caressing her back seemed silky, and her bright blue eyes were splendid. But Severus was not interested in her, or any other woman for that matter. The only things that were interesting to his eyes were his potions. And it was enough for him.

"You just need to..." Samantha began, putting her hands on the chair where the former Potions Master was sitting.

"I do not doubt your... capacity, Miss, but as you can see, someone is trying to work right now," he interrupted her coldly, looking right in the eyes of the Healer. "I guess that you have to visit some patients too, am I wrong?"

He saw Samantha swallow hard, eating at the same time her damn candy, and nodded.

"Have a nice day, Severus," she mumbled before quitting his office, leaving the door open behind her .

Finding himself alone at last, Severus Snape sighed. For several months, he had been working on a way to prevent and cure the cancer, and for the umpteenth time, his potion had failed. A grayish color was coloring it, and it was the only sign that he needed to understand that it wasn't a success.

And yet... For months, he had spent his days and nights trying to develop this miraculous potion. For some reason that no one knew about, cancer had not affected wizards for centuries. This disease that everyone had thought to linked to the condition of Muggle had managed to hit them with full force somehow, and it was not one, nor ten, but more than a hundred of sorcerers who were facing this disease, and nobody could explain it.

There was only one thing that wizards were not able to heal: death. But cancer? Come on, there had to be a cure, a treat, a potion against this _simple_ illness! But when some wizards had died due to complications, not necessary linked to the disease itself though, the wizarding world had been alerted: a solution had to be find. Muggle treatments were deployed in hospitals, and St. Mungo's was no exception to the rule. Chemotherapy, radiotherapy became the rule. But the knowledge of wizards about Muggle medicine was not the best, and they had to rely only on what they had found in books.

Out of rage, Severus rose hurriedly, nearly overthrowing the cauldron at his feet. Everyone was counting on him, on his expertise in the potion field in order to develop an effective potion against this cancer that gnawed the wizarding world without giving them a breather.

Running a tired hand through his long black hair, Severus approached his desk and put his parchment on which he had worked all day on it, before opening a drawer at his left, where he used to drag his documents once the day was over.

But this time, the tray didn't open. Frowning, Severus took out his wand and cast an Alohomora on the lock, without success. Exhausted by his day, and not wishing to stay any longer in a place that reeked of disease, he decided to change his ways and opted this time for the right drawer which opposed, fortunately, no resistance.

While he was preparing to file his own parchments blackened with formulas of any kind, his eyes fell on a stack of yellowed parchments. Curiosity finally prevailed, and after depositing his researches on the desk, he passed a quick hand on the documents he had found, in order to remove the dust as best he could. A small layer of dust remained stuck on the tip of his fingers, but he didn't care about it. The title, writting on the first parchment in black letters, was quite evocative:

_**"Researches on the multiple remedies against cancer"**_

Severus moved his thumb that prevented him to read the second line of writing, and his heart skipped a beat.

"By Hermione Granger...," he whispered.

**XxX**

The bundle of parchment slipped from Severus' hands and settled on his own researches. With a trembling hand, he began leafing through the documents, as if he was searching for an answer to his desperate quest. His eyes fell repeatedly on known terms of the ingredients that he had himself used, but nothing seemed to completely overlap his own tests.

Nothing.

With a sigh, Severus quickly weighed the scrolls and realized that the work done by his former student was more than substantial. She had probably spent entire days and nights studying this topic. Yet, he remembered while slightly frowning, that cancer was not a common disease in the wizarding world when she had been employed at St. Mungo's. So why had Hermione Granger researched as extensively on the subject?

Hermione Granger... He had of course heard of her at his arrival at St. Mungo's. More than once, he had smiled to each healer who had extolled the qualities of the young woman in front of him. She seemed to have had some impact on the policy of the medical establishment in the recent years. The waiting time of patients was now much shorter than in the past, and medical monitoring was more advanced. A true healer/patient relationship had been created over the years, and the influence of Hermione Granger hadn't been negligible. The war had left many families destroyed, and she had wanted to find a way to put her knowledge to the greatest good : she had managed to do it brilliantly.

For several years, she had worked tirelessly, conducting important research leading to discoveries altogether surprising at times: the latter had been to find a potion in order to regenerate the brain's nerves connections, a first in the magical world.

But it hadn't been her latest discovery, Severus thought, turning carelessly the parchments that were now scattered on his desk. Hermione Granger tried to go further, but after reading the last parchment, he realized that she had not managed to get to the end of her research.

Cursing softly, Severus leaned against the back of his chair. This research was a basic beginning. He could try to cross the information found by the young woman with his own, crossing fingers that something interesting could come out of this work.

He eventually crossed his hands on his stomach, stretching his legs as best he could. The day had been long, and once again, going back to Spinner 's End wasn't something that he was waiting for. And yet he could not stay here in St. Mungo's, while the hallways emptied gradually. Suddenly, a woman stopped at the open door of his office, looking surprised.

"Severus Snape doesn't close the door to his office? That's a first," said a healer with green eyes of a fairly advanced age, clutching a bundle of documents against her chest.

"The truth is, Mrs. Jones, that a certain blonde – that I will not name - seems not to have learned the basic rules of community life," he explained with a slight grin.

" Ah, Samantha has done her own," explained the healer with a slight laugh. "She doesn't want to let things go, does she?"

"She should...," Severus finally sighed. "You're on guard tonight?"

"Hmm," Eterna Jones nodded. "Besides, I have to go see a patient now. Do not spend too much time here, Severus. Good evening."

Severus greeted her with a nod as she disappeared down the hallway, taking care to close the door behind her. The gaze of the man in the black cloak once again fell on the name of Hermione Granger, and it is with haste that he regrouped all the parchments that were on his desk. A night of research was waiting.

**XxX**

Hermione slid the key into the lock of the door of her bookstore at around half past eight, thus ending her workday. The night began to fall, and she was eager to pick Rose up. Gloria's house was located only a few minutes by car from her work, and the trip went off without a hitch. She finally stopped in front of a house made from pale pink bricks and parked in front of the painted wooden fence. Hermione noticed that Gloria had planted some new plants of roses, and she had a tender smile as she walked toward the front door, ringing twice.

"Oh Hermione," Gloria exclaimed, with her delicious Spanish accent. "Rose awaits you in the living room, come in."

Hermione went into the charming house, full of children chirping . Ethan was the first child who she laid her eyes on, and she leaned over in order to kiss him on the forehead. After four months, she had learned to appreciate these children who lived almost daily alongside his daughter. She was happy to have had the opportunity to convince Gloria to become Rose's nurse. And yet, the game hadn't been a sure thing, Gloria refusing to deal with more than two children at a time. It had played in the nurse's favor somehow: it had been a sign of seriousness to Hermione's eyes. But Gloria had been already busy with Ethan and Chloe, an adorable little blonde. Hermione had had to insist several days to make the nurse give up. Actually, it had been Rose who had made her give up, with her smiles and tranquil character.

Suddenly, Hermione's eyes caught her daughter, and the latter began to crawl, avoiding as best she could the toys that were piled on the floor.

"Miss Rose Weasley, I think that you can walk, can't you?" Hermione said, taking her in her arms. "Were you good with Gloria?"

Gloria let out a delighted laugh, taking Ethan in her arms.

"Better than this one, for sure! Ethan did not stop bothering Chloe today. Rose was lucky not to have to endure him this time," the nurse explained.

Rose put her head in the crook of her mother's neck and began to gently close her eyes.

"Well," Hermione said, I see that this little girl is tired. We are going home, Gloria, and thank you for everything."

"It was a pleasure as always, Hermione. I will be here tomorrow at eight o'clock this time, be sure of that."

Hermione gave her a kiss goodbye and slipped out of the house, after taking Rose's diaper bag. She hugged her daughter against her chest to protect her from the cool nights of October and moved to the rear of the car, taking care not to wake her.

There was a ten minutes drive which separated the house of Gloria to her own apartment, and they were quickly reached. Rose did not wake up when she got to her room, and Hermione laid her in her crib with soft movement, slightly closing the door behind her as she walked into the living room. There, she took off her boots and walked to the open window in order to close it. Hermione frowned; she was almost sure that she had closed the window the night before.

Suddenly her eyes fell at her feet, and she saw a red envelope, closed by a wax seal on the back. She rolled her eyes, knowing what it was: a howler. With haste, she went to shut the door of Rose's room after casting a spell on the room so the little girl couldn't hear anything that was going on outside and joined the living room once again. Without using her wand, she cast various spells on the red parchment that was still sealed in order to reduce the intensity of the message that would be issued shortly. She had thought to throw the letter into the fire, but she knew that it would not help her problems: the letter would open in the fire anyway.

Taking a deep breath, she opened the letter and dropped it on the coffee table, as if it had burned her.

The parchment seemed to take life, and it twisted into a grotesque mouth paper.

"Hermione Granger Jane, said the letter with a loud voice, but as muffled by a gag. "For several days, several weeks even, I have not laid a single eye on my grandaughter, Rose Weasley! I hope that you'll fix this problem in the coming days. But you have to know," the parchment said in a softer voice, " thatour door is always open to you, my dear. We await you."

The letter fell on the coffee table, and Hermione ventured to take it in her hands. As she expected, the parchment was signed by Molly Weasley, Rose's grandmother. Hermione sighed. She knew that not bringing Rose to see her grandparents was a mistake, and yet she could not bear to take her to the Burrow all weekends as Molly seemed to want it. Their last visit to the Weasley's had been more than two months ago, and since then, the young woman had the greatest difficulty to get there again.

Not that their last visit had been a nightmare, far from it. But it turned out that the Terrier reminded her too many memories, so many memories she had been trying somehow to put aside. Memories of her life before, memories of her life alongside Ron.

Hermione gently folded the letter and put it on old letters she had received since her departure. Letters from Ginny, Harry, Neville... These letters were all expressions of support from her friends, but that she had never bothered to respond. What could she say after this? At twenty-seven, she was trying to turn over a new life, and dwell on the past was not a good idea. This is why the only photograph of Ron that she had kept was in Rose's room, near her cradle. Even if she did not want to think about her past, her daughter had the right to know her father after all.

With a trembling hand, Hermione took a blank parchment that was on the small table next to the couch, close to the lamp that her mother had bought for her a year earlier, and a quill. It was one of the few relics of her old life she had kept: her quill and some ink. Sometimes, she had to face suprised looks from her customers mainly, but she argued as she liked to write in an old fashion. Holding a pen was so inappropriate for her after all these years with a quill that she hadn't even tried to give it a shot.

Her quill stopped a few inches from the parchment, while Hermione bended a little more over in order to be closer to the coffee table. Finally, she began to write.

"_Dear Molly, dear Arthur,_

_I understand your sorrow at the thought of not seeing Rose as often as you want, but taking care of the bookstore represents much of my time. As you may know, I just use Muggle transport now and coming to the Burrow takes me several hours. However, I will make an effort to come with Rose this weekend, so that you can see her. She often asks me about you._

_With all my love,_

_Hermione_"

Once the letter was written, she folded the parchment in three and walked to the window that she had just closed a few minutes ago. She certainly had not seen any owl, but she knew that it had remained close to her apartment, Molly knowing that she had no owl. As she had anticipated it, an owl came to rest at the window once she had opened it, and opened its beak to take the freshly written letter in its beak.

"Return to your sender," she whispered, patting his head awkwardly.

The owl opened his wings and flew into the night, leaving Hermione alone, leaning on the windowsill, lulled by the gentle breeze of October.

**XxX**

With his elbows on his desk just lit by a lamp that was beginning to give up the ghost, Severus rubbed his eyes for the umpteenth time of the evening. A quick glance at the clock overhanging his office was enough to make him understand that it was high time to go to bed, yet he tried somehow to keep his eyes open. He had just read an interesting quote of Hermione Granger research, interesting enough to keep him awake.

"[...] _In the present state of knowledge, it is unlikely that a vaccine, a spell or a potion could emerge in the months and even years to come. But a combination of medical Muggle technology and magical medical technology is possible, and it would be good to dig in this direction. One does not go without the other, and work collaboratively with medical big names of the muggle world seems necessary. However, the track of a combination of Chinese chomping Cabbage, Runespoor eggs and Ruta Graveolens can't be neglected._ [...] "

Severus recognized there the fine and tightened writing of his former student, and he could not help but smile thinking about the fact that the young woman was twenty years his junior. Yet this did not obviously prevent her to be the smartest woman he had the opportunity to know during his forty-six years of life.

With haste, the former Potions Professor took a book that was on the bookcase that was on his right, dragging his chair sideways to access it. He returned to his desk by the same gesture, the _Book of Magical Ingredients_ on his lap. He knew of course the three ingredients listed by Miss Granger, but their link was not obvious to Severus. How these three different ingredients could also give a mixture that may be a solution to the problem of hundred of wizards? He flipped over a dozen pages, marking some with small papers he slipped here and there, and after a good half hour, he gently closed the book and laid it on his desk. Sighing, he ran a weary hand through his hair, letting his back go against his chair. Nothing made sense, and yet, Severus knew that the key was not far away, that there was an avenue to explore.

"But surely not at three in the morning..." he muttered, rising from his chair, resting on the desk to stand up.

He then went to his room, where he locked himself and undressed with slow gestures before slipping under the sheets. His eyes closed almost instantly, while a crazy idea began to germinate in his mind.


	2. Chapter 2

_I'm happy to see that this story pleases you enough to follow it. And don't forget: the more you tell me what you think about this story, the more I'm happy to translate it for you. :) _

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**I'll Be Your Guide **

**Chapter II**

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Gloria arrived on time that morning. Rose, however, had just awaken when her nurse had knocked at the door of the apartment. This is the face marked with signs of fatigue that Hermione finished preparing herself, enjoying to finally find have time to put a decent outfit on. She would open the bookshop late again today, but it wasn't a problem to her. But even with this in mind, Hermione couldn't help but cursing herself while putting her tights on. She had opted for a little white dress with black pockets at the front. She also chose a little black cardigan to warm her shoulders and pulled on her boots before rolling a blue scarf around her neck night and leaving her apartment.

She opened the bookshop at the stroke of nine, and lost no time to clean the shop before the arrival of the first customers. She turned the sign that was on the door so that the word "_open_" was visible to passers-by and went quickly get rid of her scarf in the reserve. She took advantage of the few moments of solitude to store various books she wanted to highlight on the table right in front of the entrance, before being interrupted by the characteristic sound of the bell attached to the door. It was Edward's idea, and Hermione had found it useful to keep this relic of the past which gave an additional charm to the bookshop.

She turned quickly, with a smile to welcome her first customer of the day. But her smile froze when she met the dark eyes of the man who had just closed the door gently behind him, letting his cloak twirl for few moments in his back.

Even eight years later, she would have recognized him among a thousand of people. This deep gaze was hardly forgettable. That look that he had fixed on her again and again when she had been a teenager, that look that always seemed to want to probe the mind of the one on which it was fixed... That look of absolute darkness, so black that she would have bet that there was no difference in the color of his pupil and his iris.

Then, Hermione's eyes rested on his hooked nose. The form of this prominant part of his face was visible only in profile, but Hermione had no doubt that it was still hooked, even after all these years.

His mouth, despite the pinch that characterized him at this exact moment, seemed as fine as it was before.

In frond of her, Severus Tobias Snape was gazing at her.

He took a step toward her, moving with grace his cloak behind him. The latter seemed to be a part of his character. She had never seen his former teacher wear anything else than that famous cape wich, for some reason she did not know, had kept its characteristic black color.

"Professor Snape," she finally managed to whisper, turning her attention to his eyes.

"Severus, please, I'm no longer a teacher," he replied, bowing a nod. "It is a pleasure to see you, Miss Granger."

Hermione swallowed hard, surprised to see someone from her past in her bookstore. It was the first time that these two periods of her life were intertwined, and she had never thought that it would be because of Severus Snape.

"Mr. Snape," she said, since she couldn't decently call him by his first name after having been his student for so many years. "To what do I owe the honor of your presence?"

Severus walked a little more toward her, his eyes going around the bookstore. His hand fell upon a book that was on a table near him, and he gently took it in his hands, taking the time to browse the pages absently.

"_Dangerous Liaisons_", he uttered, raising an eyebrow.

"This is a Muggle book," she explained hurriedly, crossing her arms over her chest.

"I am very familiar with this book, Miss," he retorted by putting the book back where he had taken it in the first place. "I just did not think that it would be a book that you would have wanted to highlight in what appears to be your bookstore."

"It's is one of my favorite books, actually."

She vaguely caught the grin on Severus' lips, but didn't pay attention to it.

"You didn't answer my question," she replied.

"Why did you quit St. Mungo's so quickly?" Severus suddenly asked, planting his gaze in hers and she had a recoil movement, which was interrupted by the table that was behind her.

"I don't see why my reasons to leave interest you. And how did you found me, by the way?" she asked, in a slightly higher voice than she had wanted in the first place.

Severus asided the question of a movement of the hand.

"It does not matter, Miss. The most important is why I sought you, why I am in front of you right now," he explained in a silky voice, the same voice he had used during his years at Hogwarts to provide an elitist and complete education to his students.

"Go ahead," Hermione managed to say.

Severus began to pace in the bookstore, sometimes turning back to Hermione. He seemed to be looking for the right words, and kept his hands clasped behind his back as he paced the room. Finally, he turned to her before stopping in front of her.

"I need you, Hermione Granger. I need you to come back to St. Mungo's in order to..."

"No," Hermione interrupted him curtly as she frowned. "I have no intention of returning."

"Listen to me," Severus insisted, approaching her. "We need you and your expertise on a subject of the utmost importance. If you do not come..."

"I have no intention of returning," she repeated, pressing each syllable as if Severus would understand better that way. "Even though it would be an urgent matter, I wouldn't come back. I live very well since I'm far from the bustle of London, and I intend to stay away from it."

"Why?" Severus asked in desperation. "You were one of the brightest Healers, you have completely revolutionized the vision that sorcerers had of medicine. So why?"

Hermione froze, searching for words. Why had she left? It was a question she had heard many times, from the mouth of her friends, her superiors, colleagues. All had thought that, despite her grief, she would have felt surrounded by her relatives, loved enough to stay among them. But that hadn't been the case, and exile had been the only answer she had found to her problems.

"Why not?" she retorted, knowing that such a response would not be enough for Severus Snape. "I have no ties to St. Mungo's anymore, and I intend to live the rest of my life away from this hospital."

"Miss Granger," Severus sighed in despair. For nearly a year, the wizarding world is suffering from a great evil. An evil that eats us from within, against which our methods are ineffective. That's why I put my knowledge at the service of the hospital, but I can't do it alone. I can't do it without you."

A glance at Severus made her understand that he wasn't exaggerating.

"What are you talking about," she heard herself ask, even if she had vowed not to learn about what was happening in the wizarding world a year ago. But curiosity was too strong.

"I'm talking about cancer, Miss Granger, Severus confessed softly. "I'm talking about this evil which fell on us and continues to expand as a curse we can not get rid of, and against which the Muggle techniques are not as effective as on the Muggles themselves."

Hermione gasped and quickly looked down.

"Why do you think that I can help you?" she whispered, still avoiding his gaze.

"I found your work, Miss. It is certainly not accomplished, but I am sure that we can find something coherent together. I am sure of it," Severus repeated.

Hermione shook her head as if she did not hear what he said.

"I don't want to go to St. Mungo's," she murmured , still shaking her head.

"You don't have to get there," he said hurriedly. "We can conduct our researches here, or at my home at Spinner's End, as you prefer. If St. Mungo doesn't suit you, we will find a solution."

Hermione began to think about it. Rose... She couldn't possibly leave her daughter to go to Severus Snape's house. The solution imposed itself.

"I...," she began , searching for the right words. "I want to try, but I promise you nothing, Mr. Snape. If we have to work together, it will be at my place, ten minutes from here. I have a daughter, and I can not afford to leave her alone," Hermione explained, meeting his dark gaze.

Severus raised a surprised eyebrow at the mention of Rose, but eventually nodded.

"I don't find any problem about it, but do you have a personal laboratory?"

Hermione sighed before passing a weary hand over her face. She hadn't thought about that little problem.

"No, I don't... But I have a pretty spacious cellar which should be able to turn into a laboratory."

"Very well then. Can we agree on a day?"

Hermione bit her lower front lip and went to her desk, looking for a piece of parchment and a quill.

"What would you say about tomorrow night, around eight o'clock? Here's the adress..."

"It suits me," Severus replied, taking the piece of parchment that he slipped into an inside pocket. "I am delighted that we have reached common ground. See you tomorrow, Miss."

With these words, Severus left the bookstore, clinking a second time the doorbell at the same time. Hermione dropped into the seat of her desk, holding her head in her hands.

"Merlin, what did you do?," she muttered, sighing.

**XxX**

The next day , Molly's answer arrived before eight o'clock, and Rose was so excited at the sight of the owl which landed gracefully on the windowsill that Hermione had intentionally left open. The little girl with hazel eyes stamped with impatience when her mother detached the letter of the foot of the owl, a smile on her face.

"This is a letter from Grandma Molly, sweetheart," Hermione explained to the attention of her daughter.

"Granny Molly!" Rose exclaimed, her eyes shining.

Rose loved her grandparents, and Hermione felt a twinge of heart seeing her so excited. However, she opened the letter, Rose clinging as she could to her leg.

"_Dear Hermione,_

_We are delighted to hear from you. We look forward to seeing you on Saturday. Of course, you will both sleep at the Burrow._

_Love,_

_Arthur and Molly_"

Hermione gave the letter to her daughter and she pressed against her heart in a gesture of infinite tenderness. A few minutes later, Rose left with Gloria and Chloe this time, leaving her mother alone.

Hermione, as every Wednesday, had a time off, but given the circumstances, she had arranged with Gloria to exceptionally take care of Rose. She had many things to do, and it began by storing the cellar in order to prepare it for Severus' visit.

Slowly, Hermione went to her room and opened the bottom drawer of her dresser. She pulled out a small box made of ebony, and gently lifted the lid. There, on a small pillow, her wand was resting; she hadn't used it since what seemed to be centuries. Vine, dragon heartstring. Her hand ran on the wood, and she closed her eyes briefly, as if she wanted to absorb the power emanating from the object. Some tears threatened to fall from her eyes, but she repressed them very fast, opening her eyes at the same time. She hadn't laid her eyes on her wand for over a year. A year during which she had tried to live according to the customs and traditions that had composed her life for almost twelve years before she had discovered a completely different world, a world that had seemed to be hers for quite a long time.

She quickly closed the drawer of the dresser and stuffed her wand in his pocket. Would she have the reflexes that she had had before? She wasn't sure. But Severus was counting of her, and if there was something that she hated above all, it was to disappoint the people who had put their highest hopes in her.

Hermione hastily opened her jewelry box that contained very little valuable things, but in which she had slipped the key to the cellar. She hadn't wanted this key to be find inadvertently by Rose. Obviously, she wouldn't been able to open the door by herself, being too small to access the lock, but magical events could occur at any time when it came to children, and Hermione didn't want to tempt fate. Her daughter was the apple of her eye.

Her wand in her pocket and the key to the cellar in her hand, Hermione left the warmth of her room to go to the cellar. Living on the ground floor, she had direct access to this room. A shiver ran down her spine: she had been in the cellar only once since her arrival in the apartment. Indeed, beginning anew, she hadn't had much to store. When she opened the door, a current of cool air rushed into the apartment, and Hermione tightened her sweater around her. She turned on the light that sizzled few moments before stabilizing. Not really reassured, she went down the wooden stairs one at a time, not paying attention to their creaking under her weight. As a precaution, she pulled her wand from her pocket, and finally came down the stairs. The room was spacious, spacious enough to serve as a laboratory. Since she had put up with Severus Snape for years, she knew that he hated too large rooms, which was a relief in the state of things.

Hermione spent most of the morning cleaning the room, carying in the cellar the coffee table that she had magically expanded with a spell, and she did the same with the dining table. She also transfigured the old laundry basket in a cauldron, and she did the same with glasses who became phials of all sizes. Finally satisfied, she then asked herself about the ingredients. Obviously, she didn't have any, but she thought that Severus surely had took care of it. Moreover, their first meeting would be very likely consisting on research and brainstorming of all kinds.

With a sigh, she went into her apartment and closed the door behind her. A shower was necessary, and a glance at her watch told her that she had some time before fetching Rose.

Eventually, she ran a hot bath, completely contrasting with the icy rain that continually wet the soil outside for several hours. She slid into the bath with delight, adding a hint of almond shower gel. She spent a good twenty minutes in the water, a book in hand.

After having picked Rose, they dined together, and played until the girl fell asleep from fatigue. Then, Hermione took her to her room, ensuring that she was properly installed for her night's sleep, and protecting the room with special soundproofing: Rose could hear nothing, but the noise coming from her room was amplified for Hermione to hear. It was already eight o'clock and Severus wasn't here yet. Having her address, she had no doubt that the sorcerer would Apparate directly in front of her door.

At 8:03 pm precisely, the front door bell rang, and Hermione restored order in her curls before deciding to go open it. She took a deep breath, her hand on the handle before opening and coming face to face with Severus Snape. He was dressed as before, with his eternal black cloak. He greeted her with a nod as he usually did and Hermione did the same before going to the side to let him into her apartment.

They exchanged no words for a few seconds before Severus broke silence, entering the lounge.

"Your apartment is very nice," he said in a low and slow voice. "And the neighborhood seems to be easygoing."

"I'm not complaining," Hermione nodded. "Would you like to eat something, to drink maybe?"

"None of this, Miss, thank you. Which brings me to you is far more important."

"Of course, Hermione muttered while walking past Severus, avoiding his eyes as much as possible. "Follow me."

They were in front of the cellar a few seconds later, and Hermione heard Severus stifle a slight laugh as she slid the key into the lock. She whirled around to see that he had his eyes fixed on the door of Rose's room.

"What is so funny?" she asked, intrigued by his reaction.

"It is a real Gryffindor's decoration," he explained, a slight grin on his face.

Hermione followed his gaze, and couldn't deny it. Indeed, the door painted in red on which was written the name of her daughter in golden letters was for the less explicit.

"Old habits die hard," she uttered while opening the cellar's door, prompting Severus to follow her.

"Rose?," Severus questioned as they descended the stairs.

"Rose Weasley" Hermione specified, her lips pursed.

Severus didn't answer, and they found themselves in the middle of the cellar that she had arranged on the afternoon.

"I did the best I could with what I had..." she explained, a little ashamed by the result.

"That's fine, I don't think that we need more utensils," Severus reassured her while going around the room, counting the number of phials at the same time.

It was then that Hermione realized that Severus had a bag in his right hand, a black one, obviously.

"What is this?"

"Everything that we need for tonight. My work and your work on the subject."

Severus placed the bag on the nearest table and pulled out a sheaf of parchment. Hermione approached him and recognized her handwriting.

"I didn't think that I would see these documents again one day," she admitted softly.

Severus glanced at her, and saw that a few wrinkles had taken over the outer corner of her eyes. She was no longer the extremely talented girl he had known, she was no longer a teenager. She had became a woman manhandled by life, marked by events that he didn't dare to imagine.

He was interrupted by the look of the young woman on him, and he cleared his throat awkwardly, as if he had been caught in flagrante delicto.

"You can check whether these documents are complete or not... Then we can talk about this disease, about the discoveries that we each made so as not to influence each other in the first place. Then it would be good to think together about the solutions that we find appropriate. What do you think?"

"I'm okay with this," Hermione replied with a nod, turning her attention to her documents.

She took all her parchments and went to sit in a comfortable chair, inviting Severus to do the same. As she began reading her parchments, a thought came into her head: the night would be long.

* * *

_More to come: some revelations about this curious disease... Stay tuned!_


	3. Chapter 3

_**Author's note**: okaaay, note to myself: never let someone update a story for you... Since I was away, my friend was supposed to update the French version of this story, but she updated the English too... Oh well. This chapter was supposed to be a part of chapter 2, but now it's a short chapter on its own. I hope that it's not a problem for you.  
_

_Anyway, here is chapter 3. Don't forget to let me know what you think of it! _

* * *

**I'll Be Your Guide  
**

**Chapter 3**

* * *

"Do you want something to drink? Coffee, tea perhaps?"

The sweet voice of Hermione broke the comfortable silence that had settled between them. Severus looked up from his own parchments, and nodded.

"A cup of coffee would be nice, thank you."

Hermione quickly put her papers in her armchair and left Severus alone in the cellar. They were working on their reseach for two hours now, a work that took a lot longer to Hermione. More than a year had passed since she had abandoned her research, forgetting it in a drawer of her former office. She would never have thought of seeing them again anytime soon, especially not in these circumstances.

Severus Snape hadn't told her everything the day he had appeared in her bookstore. The type of cancer that gnawed the wizarding world wasn't a normal on. A form of magic was grafted to the disease, making it difficult to cure the patient. Or maybe it was the opposite: it was also possible that this was the magic of the host that triggered a new mutation of the disease... Nothing was certain, and Hermione knew only one thing: if she wanted to learn more about this disease, she needed to see a patient directly.

Sighing, she slowly opened the door of Rose's room to ensure that her daughter was still asleep. It was still the case, and Hermione passed a motherly hand on the forehead of the little girl. Then she went into the kitchen to prepare two cups of strong coffee. While waiting for the filter to do its job, many ideas passed through her mind: how was it possible that a magical substance could interfere with a disease? This would be a first. During the almost seven years where she had officiated at Ste. Mungo's, she had never faced such a thing. Then, she took two cups in her hands to lead them to the cellar. While doing so, other questions came into her mind: how the disease had spread in the wizarding world? Cancer wasn't contagious, far from it, and for centuries, the wizards had been immunized against it. So why so many cases in such a short time? Was it really cancer... or a disease which disguised as another one?

"Thank you," Severus said when the young woman handed him one of the cups of coffee.

"My pleasure. I need to ask you some questions, if you don't see any problem with it," she finished while sitting in her armchair, surrounding her own cup with both hands to keep her warm as she could.

"I'm listening, Miss."

"When did this disease begin in the first place? Was it a massive infection or did it appear insidiously in the magical world?"

Severus took a few seconds to respond.

"I learned about this disease a little more than seven months ago. I lived as a hermit at the time, and to return to the magical world after so many years away from it was definitely not in my plans," he began. "Like you, if you allow me to make the comparison."

Hermione nodded in assent, but also to encourage him to continue his story.

"The things that I'm going to tell you are from that report that landed on my desk after I agreed to put my knowledge at the service of St. Mungo's many months ago. From what I have learned, the disease began to affect a dozen of people simultaneously. Obviously, the term "cancer" had been chose several weeks later, when the similarities with this typically Muggle disease were highlighted. It is important to notice that there is no death... yet. None of the patients died as a direct result of the disease. There were some dead, yes, but most of them died for other reasons, not because of complications related to cancer."

"I see," Hermione whispered. "And what about the symptoms?"

"They, obviously, depend on the type of cancer," Severus drawled, looking straight into the chestnut eyes of the young woman. "Shortness of breath, lymph nodes, chest pain in case of lung cancer, abdominal pain and perforations for colon cancer, even if these ones are rare... I'm not going to detail all types of cancer to you, Miss," he finished with a vague gesture of his hand.

"Of course," Hermione replied, shaking her head. "I guess that you focused your research on the field of potions?"

"Exactly," Severus nodded after taking a sip of coffee. "It has been nearly seven months since I'm doing clinical trials without success," he confessed.

"I don't think that it is possible to cure such diseases with a simple potion... This pernicious disease that attacks the human body doesn't allow a simple potion to cure it."

"This is something I've noticed over time. Moreover, Miss Granger, why have you done this research on cancer? You fled the magical world a year ago, before the beginning of this "epidemic", as far as I know. So why?" Severus asked, suddenly suspicious.

"I come from a Muggle family, should I remind it to you?," she asked in a low voice.

"Someone in your family..." Severus began, while the truth was emerging in his mind.

"My grandmother," Hermione explained. "She died from this disease more than a year ago, which is why I abandoned this research thereafter."

"I'm sorry," Severus murmured.

"Don't be," Hermione said with a smile. "This research is focused on a cure against cancer, but it seems different from the disease that affects the wizards right now."

"May I know why? The symptoms..."

"Are the same, I know," Hermione interrupted him. "But symptoms can be the same for two totally different diseases. For example... When you vomit, I guess that you think about many different things, isn't it? It is possible that it it from food poisoning, a spell, or a candy that doesn't have any good intentions," she finished with a smile.

"I agree," Severus conceded. "But this is quite different from the problem here: everything fits. Everything."

Hermione bit her lower lip, trying to find an explanation.

"Do Muggles treatments, such as chemotherapy, radiotherapy work?," she tried.

"They reduce some symptoms. But from what we know about it, it doesn't prevent the spread of cancer. To be honest, we have no signs of remission in any of our patients."

"How do you explain this then?"

"We don't explain it," Severus let out with a cynical air. "Nothing can explain this and this is why we need you, Miss Granger. I am competent, certainly, I don't deny it. But I just have an extensive knowledge in the field of potions. You, on the contrary..."

"I know nothing more than you know, Mr. Snape, if it's based on pure knowledge. I just had the opportunity to meet for many years the patients, and I tried to put myself in their place, somehow."

Severus let out a sigh, as if he had lost all hope on her to change her mind.

"Will you help me in my research or not?" he finally ask wearily.

Hermione took a few seconds of reflection, lost in her former Potions professor's look. He seemed to be tired, so tired by the weight hanging over his shoulders. She noticed that his hair was already going gray, and the wrinkles that had taken possession of his face gave him a noble and reassuring air. His features were however sweeter than when she had seen him for the last time eight years earlier. He seemed to be more peaceful, as if the end of the War had helped him to reconstruct himself. She realized that he had taken several years to get out of his retreat, but he had managed to do so. And now she, Hermione Granger, was withdrawing from social interaction, like Severus Snape had done before her.

Then her eyes fell on the coffee cup that she was holding in her hands. Her hands were shaking slightly, as if her whole body was unwilling to make the leap: to go out of the cocoon she had taken so long to build wasn't easy, but she felt that she needed to do it.

"Why didn't they tell me about it?," she finally asked, raising her eyes to meet those of Severus.

"I beg your pardon?"

"Molly, Arthur... The Weasleys; why didn't they tell me about this disease?"

"It is likely that they hadn't heard of this disease. St. Mungo's hospital and the Ministry shall ensure not to frighten the population. The only wizards who know are the patients, of course, their relatives and the Hearlers."

"And the Ministry," Hermione whispered.

"And the Ministry," Severus confirmed.

Hermione stood up to drop her cup on the table where were many vials. Turning her back to Severus, she put her hands on the cold wood of the table, and closed her eyes before taking a deep breath.

"Is it possible...," she began slowly, "is it possible to meet some patients?"

Behind her back, Severus quickly closed his eyes, suppressing a smile of satisfaction.

"Of course," he said quickly as Hermione just turned to face him. "You can come to Ste. Mungo's tomorrow, of course."

"I just don't want to be recognized," she explained quietly.

"Do you plan to use some Polyjuice potion?" Severus questionned while raising an amused eyebrow.

"I don't plan to use magic things," Hermione replied, suddenly blushing. "I'll come by car, and would go back by the same means of transport at the end of the day."

"May I ask why?"

"Personal reasons," she said coldly.

Severus just fix her intensely, as if he was trying to read her mind. Embarrassed, Hermione took her parchments awkwardly in her hands and placed them on the table.

"I think that we're done for today, don't you think?," she eventually said.

"Yes, we are," Severus nodded, rising from his armchair, tidying his clothes. "So I will be seeing you tomorrow at St. Mungo's. You probably know the employees entrance?"

"Yes, I do. I will be there around ten o'clock, if that's okay."

Severus gave her a nod and walked toward the stairs leading to the apartment of the young woman, Hermione on his heels, with the two empty cups in her hands. Just when she shut the cellar door behind her, a groan arose from Rose's room, quickly followed by tears. Severus froze a few feet from the room of the little girl, and Hermione sighed.

"Go and take care of her," Severus said, to Hermione's surprise.

"I thought that you had the emotional range of a teaspoon," she could not help saying with a smile. "Can you keep me these cups for a second, please?"

"Sure," he merely replied, as if he didn't hear her sarcastic remark.

Hermione placed the two cups in his hands before opening the door of her daughter's room, bathed in the light of the hallway. Severus couldn't help but take a step to see the scene that was unfolding before his eyes.

He saw Hermione Granger take with infinite tenderness her daughter in her arms. She shouldn't be more than two years, comparing the physical appearance of the little girl with the children he had had the opportunity to see since he worked at the hospital. Rose put her arms around her mother's neck, and Severus could only see her curly hair.

"Did you have a nightmare, sweetheart?" Hermione asked her softly.

The girl sniffed again, and Severus saw her nod.

"It's okay, Rose, everything's fine..."

Hermione rocked her daughter for a few seconds before turning her gaze to Severus, as if she had just become aware of his presence in her house. Slowly, she walked toward him, still carrying Rose in her arms, wrapped in a small blanket to keep her warm.

"I'm sorry," Hermione whispered to the attention of her former Potions professor, careful not to disturb Rose any further. "Let me walk you to the door."

Severus followed her, and could see the gaze of Rose set on him over Hermione's shoulder. The little girl looked at him, as if she was surprised to see a stranger follow her in her own home.

"Mommy," she muttered, pulling gently on the hair of the young woman.

"Hush, Rose, go back to sleep..."

They finally arrived at the door, and Hermione it opened softly.

"Well, Miss Granger, I wish you and Rose a good night..." Severus said slowly, casting a last look at the little girl who had changed position in the arms of her mother, facing him now.

Rose waved at Severus before resting her head on Hermione's shoulder.

"I see you tomorrow," Hermione said with a smile. "Good night, Mr. Snape."

Severus walked away down the corridor after a nod, and a few seconds later, Hermione heard the characteristic "_Pop!_" of an Apparition. Then she gently closed the door behind her, and brought Rose in her room.

* * *

_No informations about Ron in this chapter... But I will definitely talk about him soon. ;)_


	4. Chapter 4

_Author's note : mmh, no author's note today. Who read them anyway? :p_

* * *

**I'll Be Your Guide**

**Chapter IV**

* * *

The drive turned out to be much longer than Hermione had thought it would be. After an hour and a half stuck in the traffic that began to form at the entrance to London, she sighed, exasperated at the thought of not being able to arrive on time at St. Mungo's. It was already half past ten, and she had no way to prevent Severus Snape that she would be late.

One look at her reflection in the mirror was at the origin of her first laugh of the day. She looked ridiculous with her big sunglasses and a scarf tied around her hair. She was almost looking like an actress from a movie of the 40's. It was so not like her, and that was the purpose of her attire: she wouldn't be recognized. However, no doubt that she would attract some glances once at the hospital, but Hermione hoped that the link between the former Healer and the new bookseller wouldn't be established. She had lost weight since her last day at St. Mungo's, and perhaps that would be enough to go unnoticed, she dared to hope.

About twenty minutes later, she ended up in a car park near Purge & Dowse Ltd, the clothing store where he hospital entrance was established. While visitors needed to talk to one of the models of the case to be guaranteed access to the care facility, employees needed to enter the store and go through the fitting rooms. Trying to not appear suspicious, Hermione walked over to one of the cabins, fortunately free at this hour of the day. She slipped behind the curtain and put the palm of her hand on one of the stones of the wall. She had to wait a few moments before the brick wall faded away, letting her discover a corridor made in white walls.

Hermione walked slowly, noting that the wall took its former position in her back as she walked away from him. Quickly, she made sure that her headscarf was not about to betray her, and bowed her head when a Healer in a characteristic green blouse passed next to her. Where to go? Severus gave her an appointment at ten o'clock in the employee entrance, but it was nearly eleven o'clock, and she couldn't blame him for not being present at this time of the day.

When she was beginning to wonder if it was a good idea to come here, an impatient hand rested on her forearm, forcing her to return. The dark eyes of her former Potions professor set on her, and she couldn't help but notice that he was frowning.

"Mr. Snape," she whispered as he dragged her in a hallway close to the one in which she was wandering a few seconds earlier.

They then went through another hallway at a run, and they crossed the questioning gaze of several employees. Then the shock; Hermione found herself throwned a year back, when she had closed for the last time the door of this office. _Her _office.

It was almost the same, except that the many frames that she had scattered around the room when she officiated had disappeared. Th reassuring wooden floor had also disappeared, replaced by a cold tile floor, similar to what could be seen throughout the hospital.

"You're late," Severus uttered in a slow drawl.

Out of her thoughts, Hermione looked up at the man who stood before her quickly, his arms crossed, and his back casually leaning against the desk.

"I didn't think that the traffic would be so erratic, I apologize."

"Anyway, the most important thing is that you're here. Did someone recognize you?"

"I don't think so," she replied, shaking her head.

Without another word, Severus slipped with the ease of a cat - or should she say a snake? - behind the desk, and sat there. He invited Hermione to sit in front of him, and it is with reluctance that she sat on the chair. This chair was normally for patients. Her place had always been on the other side of the desk, but she tried to ignore this idea. However, Severus seemed to realize her embarrassment and raised an eyebrow as he rested one hand on his record.

"May I know what is wrong, Miss Granger?"

"Oh, nothing. It just turns out that I'm more used to be... at the other side of the desk," she explained, smiling. "But please, continue whatever you were doing."

Severus eventually redirected his attention in the document that he had just opened.

"Let's see...," he began aloud. "We have here the record of Daniel Ertwing, a sorcerer of 52 year-old. "He was admitted to St. Mungo's two months ago, complaining at the time of wheezing in the chest, pains... We didn't have immediately made the connection between his pain and the disease that interests us currently. You see, Daniel Ertwing is the first case of lung cancer at St. Mungo's."

"And is he the only one?"

"Indeed, he is," Severus nodded. "For now..."

"What are the most recurrent forms of "cancer"?"

Hermione was reluctant to talk about cancer. Not that this disease scared her, far from it. She had accompanied her grandmother for several months, helping her to fight against this disease, trying to relieve her pain the best she could. She had even tried to help her with some potions she herself had prepared. It hadn't been enough, unfortunately, but the young woman had learned the hard way how to recognize this disease. That was why she had wanted to go to St. Mungo's in order to meet the patients. There was doubt in her mind, and it was important for her to know what was the truth.

"Throat cancer, mainly. We also noticed a lot of skin cancer."

"Anything else?"

"Nothing that I know about," Severus said absently, flipping through Daniel Ertwing's folder.

"This patient," Hermione replied , pointing her hand to the folder that was on her former office, "is it subject to a special procedure care? Is it effective?"

"We thought about surgery, but it was too late : the tumor was already too far advanced for us to risk it His body doesn't respond favorably to chemotherapy, and very weakly to radiotherapy."

"Magical procedure then?"

Severus couldn't help but smile. He knew that Hermione would have asked so many questions, and he was amazed to notice that, even after more than a year without contact with patients, Hermione Granger was still alert and lively when it came to a diagnosis. He had been waiting for these questions. He therefore had spent the morning to talk with the Healers who knew better than him about this disease.

"The patient refuses to submit to them as long as the treatments are not safe. He doesn't want to be treated like a guinea pig."

"Stage of disease?," she finally asked, as if she hadn't heard his answer.

'Terminal, probably" Severus murmured.

Hermione frowned.

"This is insane," she began in a calm voice. He is at a terminal stage and doesn't want to test anything? Does he accept, however, to be relieved in a magical way, with potions for example?"

"This goes without saying. But you have to know, Miss Granger, that the risks are huge for any magical cure. The only thing on which the hospital puts its hope one is a potion of Healer Moore..."

" Samantha Moore?," Hermione dropped disdainfully. "What did she find? Is it something extraordinary enough to save us all?"

"Nothing really brilliant, I'm afraid. But she insisted for this potion to be tested by the patients of the hospital, and the manager gave his approval. However, no patient hasn't agreed to test this potion yet."

"Her reputation seems to precede her..."

Samantha Moore was ten years older than Hermione. Since day one, they had worked together in the service of Magical Bugs and Diseases. For many years, Samantha had lived in a perpetual competition with Hermione, who hadn't asked for it. Being younger than Samantha, she had expected the contrary; she had thought that the Healer would have been nice to her, that she would have taken her under her wing; it hadn't happened. During many years of collaboration, Samantha had been odious to her, taking pleasure in openly criticizing the many discoveries that Hermione had done. It went without saying that Hermione's resignation as a Healer had been a blessing for the blonde woman. She couldn't have been happier.

"Yes," Severus nodded, looking straight at her. "Well, Mr. Ertwing agreed to see you today, if you still want to..."

Hermione stood up quickly, followed by Severus.

"It would be a pleasure."

**XxX**

"Mr. Ertwing?"

Severus's voice was cool and collected, almost bland. Hermione stood a little behind him, her hands on the front of her dress, waiting for a sign of the exhausted man who was sleeping peacefully, his head on a white pillow. His hands were rested on the sheet that covered his body, and Hermione could see that he was breathing without assistance, which was already a good sign. A small sign, certainly, but it helped to give hope to the patient and his relatives.

Daniel slowly opened his eyes, and he took Severus' hand in his, squeezing it as best as he could.

"Severus," he began in a whisper. "What a pleasure to see you. How is your research going on?"

Even if he was turning his back to her, Hermione realized that Severus was smiling at the patient, and she raised a surprised eyebrow. Severus Snape wasn't a man who smiled a lot, far from it.

"Nothing very conclusive yet, alas," he explained softly, putting his second hand on Daniel's one. "I'm here to introduce you to Healer Granger."

Severus turned slightly so that Daniel Ertwing could see her, and Hermione took a step towards the bed, making sure to keep a friendly smile on her face, even if it was difficult for her. Being in this room in such circumstances reminded her of her late grandmother.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Miss," Daniel managed to whisper. "Excuse my attire..."

"Please, you don't have to apologize. How do you feel?"

"Oh, you know... "I'm still waiting for Severus here to find this miracle cure for this disease that exhausts me."

"Has your pain evolve since your entry in St. Mungo's, Mr. Ertwing?"

"Not in a good way, I'm afraid," he laughed before coughing heavily. "But things seem to have stabilized over the past two weeks. Is this the end? I don't know," he finally said, trying to smile painfully.

Hermione put a sympathetic hand on his arm, while Severus spoke.

"I said you to not be that pessimistic, Daniel," he said in a low voice.

"Oh, I'm not. I am sure you will find the cure, Severus, I hope that you will... And maybe this nice lady will help you, who knows..."

Hermione nodded, smiling.

"I will do my best to help Mr. Snape."

"I heard about you, Miss Granger, and I heard only good things. What you have done, transforming this hospital into something more... human, I will never forget it. This allows me to not complain too much when the pain is unbearable."

Hermione bit her lower lip, trying not to show her emotion. Never betray her emotion with the patient, even in hard times: it had been, and was still her credo. The patients didn'tt need compassion. They needed treatment, and this was what she was trying to do: find a solution.

"I'll do my best," she repeated before putting some distance between her and Daniel Ertwing. A look at Severus was enough for him to understand that the visit was over.

"Okay, Daniel. We are going to let you rest. A healer will come in an hour if all goes well. You can sleep until then.

Hermione greeted the patient and vanished into the hallway, quickly followed by Severus.

"So, what are you thinking about?" Severus asked as they roamed the hallway towards the office of the former Potions professor.

"He is an extraordinary man," Hermione merely replied in a low voice so that the healers who were following them didn't recognize her voice.

"I don't doubt it," Severus replied wryly. "I'm asking for your medical opinion, Miss."

Hermione waited until they were out of sight before speaking again.

"How can you be so sure that it's a lung cancer?," she asked when they sat in their respective seats in the office of Severus Snape.

"And why not?," Severus replied, frowning. "You saw what I saw: Daniel Ertwing has lung cancer."

" I saw a sick patient, yes, but nothing says that he's got a cancer."

"And what would it be, Miss Granger?" Severus asked disdainfully. "Enlighten me, be my guest."

"I don't have a clue," she whispered, looking down at her lap. "Did you make him go through scanners? X-rays?"

Severus pursed his lips, visibly irritated by her questions.

"Listen, Miss Granger, we have done all the necessary tests, and they all come to the same conclusion: it is a cancer," he explained dryly. "Daniel Ertwing , as many hospitalized wizards, is suffering from lung cancer where the others are suffering from throat cancer, for example. Nothing explains the sudden appearance of the disease in our community, certainly, but nothing has been explained either when Muggles had been affected centuries ago, even if it seems far more common in their environment. I would be grateful if you stopped to always question the conclusions that required months and months of research by the healers and myself..."

"You don't have to be so rude, Mr. Snape. I'm just trying to look at other tracks, to put a finger on things that you didn't think about in the first place... I'm just trying to do what you wanted me to do when you picked me in my bookstore: help you. But if you don't want my help," she continued, rising from her chair, "I don't see why I should stay. Have a nice day, Mr. Snape."

Hermione leaned over to take the bag she had dropped at her feet and hugged it against her with the little dignity she had left. She had denied all the things she had promised to herself over a year ago in order to help him, and that was how he thanked her. If there was something she had learned during her seven years at St. Mungo's, it was to not be pushed around, and she didn't intend to renounce to her principles in front of Severus Snape.

"Miss Granger..."

She heard her name in Severus Snape's mouth, but she didn't deign to return to face his eyes. She continued to move towards the door, and when her hand took the handle of the door, another hand came in contact with hers, prompting her to stop her gesture.

"Hermione...," Severus muttered a few inches from her ear, taking her completely by surprise. Never her former Potions teacher had called her by her first name. Why would he do this anyway?

Spontaneously, she looked up to meet the ebony eyes of Severus. Her face was at the height of the chest of the tall teacher, and she felt more vulnerable than she was before. Her grip on the door handle became less strong, and she finally let her arm fall along her side. Severus also withdrew his hand, seeming also bothered by the sudden proximity of the young woman.

"Please, don't go," he said softly. "I am sorry."

These three little words seemed to cost him as they crossed the barrier of his lips. Hermione sighed before looking away.

"If I stay," she began slowly, "I 'd like you to trust me. I want us to work together, really. If you need me, it's for a reason. I don't think that I'm more talented than you are, far from it, but you must agree that our working methods are diametrically different. This is what can make us stronger."

Severus hadn't left her gaze, and he had to admit that she was right. For more than seven months, he had worked on this cure without success. This meant one thing; his approach wasn't optimal. Hermione Granger would surely bring added value to his research, and for this he had to trust her. Then, he nodded slowly.

"I trust you," he finally uttered.

"Thank you," Hermione whispered back.

**XxX**

They eventually agreed on a schedule. Three nights a week, Severus Snape had to appear in front of Hermione and Rose's appartment, at the stroke of ten. This gave them time to eat on their own after their day's work, and it also allowed time to Hermione to take care of Rose.

On Friday evening, Severus was on time. They went to the cellar, like the first time he came to her house. Hermione had prepared tea, using her best tea set for the occasion. She had chosen a Russian tea with citrus flavors and spices. Severus looked surprised at the first sip, making the young woman smile, but he seemed to enjoy it at the end of the second cup.

That night, they spent several hours working on Severus' research. Many potions he had planned to test had been set aside, Hermione strongly doubting about their effectiveness. To her surprise, Severus hadn't been reluctant at drawing a line under his own research, as if he had finally realized that group work sometimes required to put his ego aside.

Hermione brought him some ideas, including the idea of a possible epidemic; and if it wasn't cancer after all? And if it was a large-scale poisoning that took the features of this disease?

"It could be a delusion, Severus, think about it..."

This was the first time she dared mention his name in his presence. Many times during the day when she had been left alone in the bookstore, she had said his name out loud to get used to it. Severus... _Sev-erus_... No, Seve-rus... "_Sev'rus_"? She had laughed to herself, and had blushed when a customer had walked in her shop when she had uttered for the umpteenth time the name of her former teacher aloud.

Severus didn't winced when his name was mentioned in the warmth of the cellar. Without Hermione realizing it, he had cast a spell allowing the room temperature to be around 20 degrees Celsius, so they could work in peace.

"Indeed, this is a possibility, but how do we know?"

"You told me that chemotherapy and radiotherapy didn't work on Daniel Ertwing. But what about the other patients?"

"Some of them respond positively to the treatment. But the success rates are well below the percentages of success for Muggles. This may be due..."

"The magical potential of patients which interfere with traditional treatments, yes," Hermione completed. "But it can also be due to the fact that the disease is not the same. Thus, the same processing will be more effective against one of the two diseases: cancer in this case."

Severus pursed his lips slightly. Why hadn't he thought of it before? He had been so convinced at his arrival at St. Mungo's that what he had read in the reports were true, that he hadn't thought about it any further. And now, Hermione Granger, twenty years his junior, had just questioned everything.

"It't a way of seeing things, yes," he admitted while Hermione was writting incomprehensible things on a piece of parchment. "What are you doing?"

She raised her left hand, prompting him to wait while she nervously chewed the end of her quill. After a few minutes, she finally spoke again, raising her faced framed with chestnut curls towards Severus. The latter noted that she seemed slightly confused.

"Have you heard, during this year, about some attacks associated with black magic?"

"The era of the Dark Lord is gone," he replied quickly, not understanding the value of this kind of questions at this point.

"I'm not talking about Voldemort. Black magic still exists, with or without a "Dark Lord", I think that I don't teach you anything here. Some attackers may use several tricks to achieve their ends."

Severus ran an impatient hand through his hair before answering.

"There has been attacks seven months ago I think, but things had calmed down thereafter."

"Who was it? Have they been arrested?"

- From memory, I recall that it was someone like Mezkhov, Metkhov... or..."

"_Merkhov_?" Hermione asked in a low voice.

Severus nodded before looking at her. The young woman became pale immediately after uttering the name of the black mage. If she wasn't sitting at this very moment, Severus would have thought that she would have collapsed.

"Hermione?," he asked without leaving her with his eyes.

A few seconds were necessary before she regain control of herself. She looked lost to Severus, and she put her hands on the parchment that was in front of her. Hands that were slightly trembling as Severus didn't fail to notice.

"Excuse me, I... What do you think if we stop here for today?" she suggested softly as she awkwardly put away the tea she had made for the occasion. "I... I guess that we're both exhausted from our week."

Severus frowned, but eventually nodded, helping Hermione to store the cups and spoons. Their hands brushed, and Severus took the left hand of the young woman in his.

"Is everything all right?"

Hermione nodded quickly, too quickly in the eyes of the man who still kept her hand in his.

"It's okay," she had to add in order to make him release the pressure on her wrist. "Everything is fine."

Severus finally let her go, and followed her in the stairs after picking up all of his parchments. Hermione went into the kitchen in order to put the tea set in the sink, and then she joined him in the living room. Severus had some time to realize that the room was tastefully decorated in neutral tones. One wall was painted in dark beige to give some depth to the room, which was quite beautiful.

But these considerations flew quickly from his mind when Hermione walked towards him, avoiding his eyes as best as she could. He knew that she wouldn't confide in him. That was why he decided to leave her alone for the night, although a small inner voice told him that the young woman would need some company. But who was he to comfort her? There weren't even friends.

"I'm going to withdraw... When would be our next meeting?," he asked while taking a step toward the door.

" Monday evening, if it suits you," she tried to say a confident tone, which unfortunately sounded hollow to Severus.

However, he didn't insisted and slipped out of the apartment after having opened the door himself. Arrived on the doorstep, he turned to face Hermione.

"It's okay for me. Good night, Hermione."

Suddenly, while the young woman thought that Severus would turn his back and disappear into the dark hallway, he did something that surprised them both: he grabbed Hermione's right hand and gently pressed his lips on the back of her hand. The hand-kissing lasted only a few seconds, and Severus vanished without a word, and disappeared into a "_Pop_!". Hermione closed the door, surprised by what just happened.


	5. Chapter 5

**I'll Be Your Guide**

**Chapter V**

* * *

"Don't take your sweater off, Rose, please..."

Hermione finished to prepare her daughter's bag, trying not to forgot anything for the weekend. It was nearly ten o'clock, and she was supposed to arrive for lunch. But she had two and a half hours of drive to Devon, where was located the Burrow, and she had planned to leave early in the first place. This was without counting on Rose and her habit of not letting her mother dress her up.

At the stroke of ten, however, she managed to turn the key in the lock of the car, Rose comfortably installed in her car seat. Some music and toys were enough to calm her for the trip, and Hermione was hungry when she stopped the car engine, a few feet from the Weasley's house. In less time than it took to say, Molly left the house and went on the run to the car. Hermione had only time to close the door behind her before feeling Molly's arms around her.

"Hermione, my dear, what a pleasure to see you," she exclaimed with a beaming smile. "And this is my dear little Rose!"

Quickly, Hermione pulled her daughter from her seat to give her to Molly. The latter didn't hesitate to take the little girl in her arms, covering her with kisses.

Hermione couldn't help smiling; seeing Rose sharing such beautiful moments with her grandmother was pure bliss. She let Molly took Rose inside to protect her from the cold wind blowing at this time of the year, and took her suitcase in the trunk. When she entered into the house where she had spent many weekends in the past, the delicious smell of marinated meat reached her nostrils. Some cheers were escaping from the living room, and Hermione wasn't surprised to see that the whole family was here, except for Charlie who was still living in Romania. Even Bill, Fleur and their daughter Victoire were present. Rose wasn't in the arms of Molly anymore, but was now comfortably sitting on Ginny's lap. All of them turned to look at Hermione when she entered the room, and it was time for reunions and hugs. From time to time, as she was hugging another member of the Weasley family, she heard the precious laughter of Rose, clearly delighted to be surrounded by so many people at once.

"Hermione," Harry breathed, taking her in his arms. "How long have we spent without seeing each other? Six months?"

"Five months and a few days more exactly, you weren't there the last time Rose and I came to the Burrow," she replied, pressing him against her chest. "I needed..."

"You don't have to explain anything. We all understand," he interrupted, putting a comforting hand on her shoulder.

Harry Potter's face hadn't changed a lot over the years. He always had his intense green eyes, and his scar was still visible. However, he had swapped his round glasses for more contemporary ones, which surreptitiously changed his appearance. Physically, however, he had changed. He had took muscle over time, his Auror training had surely helped him. For nearly six months, he was at the head of the Auror office, after traveling almost flawlessly for the past eight years.

His son, James Sirius Potter was next to his uncle George, near the fireplace. Hermione froze, noting the resemblance between James and his father. It was almost six months she hadn't seen the little boy who was about five years.

"Amazing, isn't it?," Harry slipped in her ear, a hint of pride in his voice.

"James seems to be your doppleganger," Hermione admitted with a smile. "And you let him being that close to George? I mean, George is an amazing uncle with Rose, but knowing his penchant for jokes..."

"Oh, James is already a real prankster, Hermione," Ginny let out, approaching them, Albus Severus Potter in her arms.

They kissed, while Hermione cast a glance at Rose, who was now in the arms of Arthur. Reassured, she gently took Albus in her arms, and the boy of almost a year-old gave her a surprised look.

"I don't think that he recognizes you," Ginny explained.

"It's true that we didn't spend a lot of time together since you are born, little boy," Hermione whispered before putting a reassuring kiss on his forehead. "Another Harry Potter lookalike in my opinion?.."

"When will I have a little girl with freckles like me?," Ginny moaned. "You're lucky to have Rose, Hermione, she is splendid."

Hermione nodded proudly. Rose was indeed beautiful, with auburn curls surrounding her face. Her eyes were the same color as her mother's; she looked in all respects like her mother to be honest. Her hair was however silkier than Hermione's when she had been younger, but that was the only difference between them.

"I imagine that she will be as clever as her mother too," Harry sighed, looking up to heaven, a smile on his lips.

"I hope so," Hermione replied with a wink.

Suddenly, Molly Weasley's voice reached the living room.

"Lunch is ready! It is quite late, the children must be starving!"

Indeed, once at the table, Rose began to eat with appetite the dish that Molly had prepared for her, and so did Albus, James and Victoire. The lunch went in a good mood, and Hermione found the smile she had lost the night before, when Severus Snape had been with her.

"How is business, Hermione?," Arthur suddenly asked, while Molly stopped near the young woman to serve her a slice of cake.

"Oh, I couldn't be more satisfied, really. Sales have soared with the start of school last month, and things stabilize since. I have a very loyal clientele."

"I'm happy for you, my dear," Molly said, putting a hand on her forearm. "Ron would have been happy to know that you are trying to rebuild your life."

An awkward silence fell around the table, and Hermione quickly looked down at the piece of cake that was now on her plate. She finally nodded slowly.

"I think so," she whispered before trying to eat her dessert, trying to avoid the gazes filled with sadness from all those who had the opportunity to go alongside Ron for many years.

Over time, the grief of the young woman had turned into something slightly different: she was always sad and devastated by the loss of the one who had shared her life for seven years, or longer if she was counting the years they had spent at Hogwarts, but this sadness was now coupled with some recognition. She was grateful to him for having given her Rose Elisabeth Weasley, the apple of her eye, the person for whom she was prepared to sacrifice everything. At twenty-seven year-old, she now had a purpose in life, and it had only been possible thanks to Ron and the love they had shared for so many years. He wasn't here anymore, certainly, but a proof of their love remained in this world, right beside her.

The lively discussion of the beginning of the meal had vanished, replaced by some melancholy.

At the end of the meal, Hermione put her hand on Harry's arm who was on his left, while Rose was playing peacefully with Albus in the toys park.

"Harry, can we talk... in private, please?," she asked in a whisper.

"Of course," the young man nodded, taken aback.

They went to Ginny's old room, and Hermione closed the door behind her, taking care to soundproof the room. Harry sat on Ginny's bed, and invited Hermione to do the same, but the latter preferred to remain standing.

"How is your job as an Auror, Harry?" Hermione questioned, trying to speak in a neutral tone.

"Routine, you know... Nothing has really changed since I was appointed Head of the Auror office, I try to always go on the field, no matter what."

"I see... And did you hear about some threats, some dangers for the Wizarding World?," she insisted. "It has been several months since I didn't check the news and..."

"And you should continue to do so, Hermione," Harry interrupted, frowning. "You don't have to worry about anything, it is the business of the Ministry and my Department in particular. If there is anything, you may be sure that we are dealing with it right now."

"Of course, of course," she stammered. "But there are things I'd like to know... Have you heard from Merkhov since then?," She managed to say in one breath.

A heavy silence fell between them. Slowly, Hermione sat down next to her best friend, her lips pursed.

"Harry..."

"You're hurting yourself for nothing...," he sighed.

"I need to know. I beg you, Harry...," Hermione tried again.

"Indeed, we had information about Merkhov recently," he finally let out. "He are supposed to be in Russia, but we don't expect an attack in the coming weeks. We don't want to make the same mistake as last year..."

Hermione nodded as she tried somehow to repress the memories that were threatening to overwhelm her.

"Do you think that he is as dangerous as before?," she whispered.

"I'm afraid that he is... He is more discreet than last year though. But we don't doubt that his influence is increasingly growing, unfortunately."

"What do you plan to do?"

"We are waiting. We are looking for a flaw in his network, something to allow us to stop him without human loss... From our side, at least."

Hermione paused, and Harry put a hand on her leg.

"Hermione, trust me. We will stop one time or another. This will surely take some time, it's been years since we have faced a black mage as powerful as Merkhov. But I promise you that Ron's death will not go unpunished, I promise..."

A silent tear ran down the cheek of the young woman as she tried to smile with difficulty.

"I trust y..."

She did not have time to finish her sentence: a shout from the ground floor interrupted her.

"James Sirius Potter!," Molly Weasley yelled while children's laughter echoed through the house.

Frowning, Harry walked to the door, followed by Hermione who somehow wiped her tears. They quickly went down the stairs before being greeted by a foul smell, while George and James were close to them, with tears in their eyes from laughing.

"What happened?," Harry asked to his son, while Ginny was walking over him, Albus in her arms.

"Your son, James Sirius, threw a dungbomb in the middle of the living room," she explained.

"Oh , Gin, you can't say that it was not hilarious," George replied by typing in James' hand.

"George , and I'm just asking you to behave decently in the presence of my children. They didn't need to be wanton by their uncle. Come here, James, you have to apolozige to granny and grandpa."

Shuffling, James resigned to follow her mother, while Rose went quickly towards Hermione, plugging her nose in a comic gesture. Hermione took her in her arms, and gently pressed her against her chest.

"Your cousin James is a real pranker, sweetheart," she murmured near the ear of the little girl who chuckled softly in response.

**XxX**

The day had been difficult for Hermione Granger. Samantha had been odious, as usual, giving her some inappropriate comments that had only strengthened her discomfort. It had been several weeks since Ron had been on a mission, several weeks during which she had lived alone in their apartment in the heart of London with Rose. She had received two or three letters from the redhead man, and they were always brief and concise: Ron had never been very good at writing, whether homework or letters to the woman who was sharing his life for seven years. Hermione didn't take it against him, though. She knew that he was occupied, and she didn't want him to think about something other than his main goal: to complete this mission as quickly as possible in order to return to his family.

Being the partner of a skilled Auror wasn't easy, Hermione willingly recognized it. From time to time, she was going to Ginny when Harry and Ron weren't present, in order to have some company. Even if Rose was lovely, she was just a baby of one year-old, and she couldn't possibly hold a proper conversation with her daughter.

For some reason unknown to her, that day, the pit in her stomach seemed to be bigger. Perhaps it was due to the constant provocations of Samantha, she wasn't sure. Hermione had visited her patients one by one in the late afternoon, taking time to talk to them for a few minutes to ensure the development of their health status, and after her daily rounds, she had locked herself in her office in order to not hear the chattering of her colleagues. It was already eight o'clock, and she was dying to go home after dropping by the Burrow in order to pick Rose up. She had installed a magical fireplace in her office, to link the three most important places of her life: St. Mungo's, the Burrow, and her own apartment.

While she was quickly tidying up the last records of the day, some agitation took possession of the hallway, forcing her to stand up. There, she saw a horde of healers in green blouse heading to the emergency airlock, as if they had the devil at their heels. Hermione managed to grab the arm of one of her colleagues, Sebastian.

"What happens there?," she asked, as the young man seemed in a hurry to go to the ER.

"A dozen of Aurors visibly tortured during a mission. We need to be as discreet as possible, order of the Ministry," he said as fast as possible, before joining the other healers.

The heart of the young woman missed a beat. Her breathing became erratic as she went to the dozen of stretchers that were arranged next to each other, surrounded by at least twenty healers.

She stopped a few feet from the slaughter scene, her head filled with the groans that some Aurors let out from time to time. Her gaze went from one stretcher to another, as she was vaguely trying to distinguish a red head between the patients.

Her knot in the stomach was unbearable, and she jumped when a hand settled on her shoulder.

"Hermione, please, don't stay here," Eterna Jones firmly said, a healer who the young woman greatly respected.

"No, I need to help, I ...," she began in a trembling voice, while her eyes didn't quit the stretchers.

"Dr. Granger," Eterna insisted in a stronger voice. "Go home."

That was when everything changed. On the other side of the room, her name was pronounced. It was just a rattle, certainly, but Hermione heard it distinctly. She turned abruptly and went on the run to the stretcher where Ron was lying. He was in poor condition, his bare chest was covered with blues of various sizes, and his face was bruised.

"Ron...," she whispered, taking his hand in hers.

He tried somehow to give her a smile, but just managed to make an eloquent grimace, sign that he was suffering.

"What has happened?," she managed to ask to the healer who was giving Ron an injection.

"Doloris, most likely, although the blues that you can see are obviously not because of this spell."

Hermione pressed a little harder Ron's hand in hers, as she was wiping the tears which began to flow down her cheeks.

"Hermione...," Ron whispered, before another grimace of pain. "Hermione, please don't cry. Tell Rose..."

"No, no, no, stop it right away, Ron Weasley," she interrupted while new tears were appearing in her hazel eyes. "Everything will be okay, you just need to rest..."

She couldn't believe that Ron, her Ron, was there, lying on a stretcher. But he couldn't die, no, he couldn't leave her alone with her daughter, with their daughter.

Suddenly, Eterna put a hand on her arm, but Hermione didn't turn around.

"Hermione, let them work, you don't help them by staying here," the healer whispered in her ear.

"He needs me, Eterna, he..."

Everything happened very quickly then. Hermione was pulled back, forced to release Ron's hand, while another healer took her place. She vaguely heard a few words, as "cardiac arrest", "begin the massage", while the healer held her firmly in her arms, preventing her from sliding to the ground. This was the time when Hermione felt that, despite her good intentions, she couldn't hold back the people she loved eternally; one day or another, they would leave her, in order to live their lives on their own, or _die_.

**XxX**

Hermione woke up sweating in her bed, and realized that her cheeks were wet with tears. It had been the same nightmare, the nightmare that had been terribly real a year earlier. Slowly, she wiped away her tears, sniffling occasionally. Normally, she was supposed to take her anxiolytics to calm down, to the dismay of her parents; but she was short of drugs for several days, her doctor refusing to give her this medicine any longer.

This nightmare she had had every night for several months... This moment when Ron's life had stopped, this moment of total helplessness in front of Death... That day, Ron had died at the ER of St. Mungo's, after she had forbidden him to tell her what he had wanted to tell Rose. For weeks, she had thought about this moment, preferring to focus her attention on details rather than the harsh reality: _Ron was dead_.

She had resigned right away, feeling nauseous just thinking about going back to where the man she had loved had given his last breath. Nobody had known that Ron was suffering from heart problems. Hermione thought Ron himself hadn't been aware of his condition. According to Harry, who had also been present during the mission but who luckily hadn't been injured, Ron had been tortured by Merkhov himself, the black mage then they had hunted. His tortured had lasted several hours, but he would have lived if his heart hadn't been so weak. Merkhov had managed to escape, taking advantage of the general chaos to slip away without anyone noticing.

Ron's funeral had taken place with his closest relatives, since the Ministry hadn't wanted the Wizarding World to know about Merkhov at the time. Molly had became enraged, arguing that her son deserved all the honors, but the Ministry hadn't changed its opinion. Hermione had said nothing, as muted after the loss of her lover.

Rose had given her the impression to understand what had happened around her; she woke up often in the middle of the night, crying. Hermione would just rock her gently, pressing against her chest the only real memory that Ron had left her; their daughter. He hadn't had the opportunity to see her grow. He hadn't seen her take her first steps or say her first words. He wouldn't see her go to Hogwarts one day, even if Hermione was reluctant to let her baby go. But despite all this, Hermione hoped that her daughter would grow up remembering the hero who had been her father. He had been a terrible child, and a careless teenager, but he had evolved into a charismatic and caring man, caring for the welfare of his family before his.

Ron had been buried in the back of the Burrow, near Fred. Hermione hadn't visited his grave after his burial; she had no desire to suffer the sight of the granite plate that reminded her of his lost love. She preferred to talk to him at night, in the warmth of her bed, telling him about Rose. Part of her wanted to believe that Ron was looking at her from where he was, a nice place for sure, and that he was smiling at her from above. She wanted to believe it.

Slowly, Hermione leaned back against the pillows and tried to sleep, once again...


	6. Chapter 6

_I really took a month to give you a 2000 words chapter, damn. But I had to work on my other Snamione too, in my defense. _

_But you've got my word: after my exams, next week, I'll be free to write more!_

* * *

**I'll Be Your Guide**

**Chapter VI**

* * *

_" **Hermione Granger seen at St. **_**_Mungo's Hospital_**

_The famous ex-healer, known for her research that led to significant discoveries in the field of magic medicine, was spotted at St. Mungo's hospital last week. A year after she had resigned – a resignation, according to our sources, related to the sudden disappearance of the Auror Ron Weasley (read more about it on page 8) -, an employee of St. Mungo's told us that she had been seen wandering in the corridors of the Hospital. _

_"She seemed lost, with her thick sunglasses and a scarf tied around her hair. I don't think that I am far from the truth when I'm saying that she suffers from post-traumatic stress disorder, due to the disappearance of her companion, who has also always given no sign of life since a year now."_

_Our source, who requested anonymity, added that Dr. Granger was known for her mood swings and..."_

Severus threw the _Daily Prophet_ on his desk before running his hand over his face. Hermione Granger had wanted to go unnoticed, but ultimately hadn't managed not to draw attention to her. This "employee" who had shared these gossips at this rag had yet to realize the absurdity of his words.

"A post-traumatic disorder...," he grumbled, watching from the corner of his eye the potion which was simmering a few feet away.

While he was working on a cure for this disease that was affecting so many patients, Severus also needed to prepare the necessary potions for the functioning of the Hospital; potions like painkillers of all kinds, Skele-gro, or Memories Potions for example.

The Potions Master could almost make them with his eyes shut; however these potions took time to prepare, lot of time. This was the reason why he had postponed his research until his next meeting with Hermione.

Why had he called her by her first name in the first place, by the was? It had seemed so obvious to him when she had been about to leave his office, but with hindsight, Severus wondered if it had been a good idea. The young woman had subsequently also started calling him by his first name, giving another dimension to their relationship, which had been totally professionnal at the start. A week had passed since he had laid eyes on her in her bookshop, and he had learned more next to her than during his nearly seven months working at St. Mungo's Hospital alongside Samantha Jones.

Hermione's methods were rather impressive; when they were working on medical issues, she seemed to follow a rigorous approach, and she had the faculty to separate the relational and the professional side. Of course, this was exactly the point of view of Severus, but he had feared that this wasn't a point of view shared by the young woman; in the past, Hermione hadn't been able to make the difference between what her heart was telling her, and what she had to do. She used to let herself be carried away by her emotions more than reason sometimes, even if she never noticed it. Oh, she was clever enough to concentrate on the essential, not like her sidekicks, Potter and Weasley, but she had sometimes showed a sensitivity that had prevented her from moving in the right direction. This seemed to be a distant memory now.

And the young woman had grown up enough to start a family with Ron Weasley, the famous Auror who had disappeared a year earlier. There were many rumors about him; some said that he had been seen in Romania, other times in the heart of London... Some even claimed that he was dead, but the Ministry has never confirmed or denied the rumors.

"It is not your business, Severus," he muttered to himself before getting up to check whether the regeneration potion had taken the pink color it should have or not.

His potions were among the best, and the hospital was very grateful to have his knowledge at its disposal. Samantha Jones' potions took a few minutes before acting, while his had an immediate effect, which earned him the praise and thanks of many patients.

Severus had never been someone very attentive, nor very demonstrative. His debut as a Potions Master at St. Mungo's had been laborious, the contact - yet necessary - with patients making him terribly uncomfortable. The first few weeks had been a nightmare, and he had asked himself if he could live like this, surrounded by patients who required a constant presence.

And yet, he had put aside his misgivings, and the arrival at the hospital of Daniel Ertwing, two months earlier, had been a revelation to him: Daniel Ertwing was like him in every way. Not physically, but their characters were identical. Daniel didn't like having to stay in St. Mungo's, and Severus had used of all his assets to make his hospital stay as pleasant as possible. Daniel had opened to him, and it had allowed Severus to do the same thing. A true friendship had developed between them during those two months, and Severus was counting on his research and Hermione's one to save him, and save all the other patients at the same time.

**XxX**

When Severus stopped in front of the apartment of the young woman, he took a deep breath before ringing at the doorbell. He heard a child's cry before Hermione's face appeared in front of him, while Rose was screaming at the top of her lungs, nestled in the arms of her mother.

"I'm sorry," Hermione sighed, "she doesn't want to stop crying... Please, come in."

Hesitantly, Severus entered the apartment, taking care to close the door behind him while the young woman was still trying to calm Rose down.

"Is it... a medical problem?," Severus questioned.

"She complained of stomach pains for two hours, but the pediatrician cannot be seen during the night, and..."

The rest of her sentence got stuck in her throat as Severus calmly approached her, pulling out his wand at the same time. Hermione had an involuntary backward movement, stopping Severus in his own movement..

"I do not plan to harm her," he promised softly, planting his obsidian eyes into Hermione's chestnut ones.

Finally, Hermione nodded slowly and turned Rose towards Severus, so that her stomach was visible. The little girl's cries stopped short when Severus' wand came into contact with her stomach, and she gave him a questioning look.

"Thank you, Severus," Hermione whispered. I dare not use magic on her, I always have this fear of doing wrong after so many time without having practiced."

"I understand," reassured Severus.

"I'm going to put her to bed now. Sit down, I'll join you in a few moments."

She disappeared into the corridor, leaving him alone in the living room. Severus went to the cosy sofa and sat down, leaving his eyes free to wander across the room. Many frames showed Rose and Hermione together, while others represented the Weasley family. He saw an unknown couple in other photographs, and Severus deduced that they were Hermione's parents.

Several minutes passed, and Hermione finally joined him.

"Thanks again. Rose also tried to pronounce your name, without success, I'm afraid," she said with a smile as she sat on the couch beside him.

"I shall not hold it against her," Severus replied with a grin.

"Why don't we work here tonight? I don't think that we need a cauldrons or vials, and we will be more comfortable in the living room, don't you think?"

Severus nodded, before taking the copy of the _Daily Prophet_ out of his briefcase.

"Before I forget..." he drawled, handing her the newspaper.

Frowning, Hermione unfolded it to read the headlines. Severus noticed that her lips were pursed as she advanced in her reading. After a few minutes, she slowly placed the newspaper on the coffee table.

"Who could be this employee, in your opinion?," she asked in a whisper.

"I return the question to you, Hermione. Who could hate you to the point of disclosing such information without informing you in advance?"

Hermione let out a laugh filled of cynicism before raising her eyes to heaven.

"I don't know," she began in a light tone, pretending to be looking for an answer that took time to come. "Samantha Jones perhaps?"

Severus put on his eternal grin before answering.

"The opposite would have surprised me. But do not worry, very few healers saw you that day, and this rumor will be nipped in the bud. I have not heard anyone talk about it today, for example."

"If you stay locked in your office all day as I suspect you do, it is likely that you have heard nothing, to be honest," Hermione replied with a smile. "But whatever... I guess that if I want to take part in this research, I'll have to return to St. Mungo's one day or another, and without hidding myself this time."

Severus raised a surprised eyebrow.

"Is that really what you want?"

"I don't know," Hermione sighed, nervously putting her hands upon her knees. But I don't think that it's a good idea for you to come here every night. You are working all day long, and you still work at night. It's not fair."

"This does not bother me at all," reassured Severus in his deep voice, his eyes fixed on her. "Working conditions could have been worse..."

Hermione blushed slightly. She remembered about the kiss that Severus had laid onto her hand three nights prior, and she shook her head to push these ideas of her mind. It wasn't the time nor the place for such thoughts.

"Do you have any new information, by the way?"

Severus seemed to regain his senses when Hermione spoke again and took other documents from his briefcase.

"I did some research on the possibility of a virus or a spell. This kind of "mass spell" is not common, far from it. A virus seems more likely, but I cannot make the link between the hundreds of patients. This is a job that will take a lot of time, I am afraid."

"And yet it is a work that we must do...," Hermione added, taking the first part of the documents that Severus had placed on the coffee table. "We must reject all tracks that give nothing before focusing on what seems logical."

"I agree," Severus murmured. "Let's get to work."

**XxX**

It was late in the night when Severus rose from the sofa, stretching slightly to relax his sore muscles. Hermione placed their two cups of coffee on the table before raising up too.

"It is not a virus, so..." she said sleepily.

"We just worked on three-quarters of the patients, do not be so impatient, Hermione."

She nodded, smiling.

"Indeed. When can we continue our research?"

Severus took some time before answering, as he leaned to take his briefcase back, now full of documents.

"You said that you wanted to come back at St. Mungo's, am I right?," he tried in a soft voice.

"I did, indeed... Can I come tomorrow?," she asked, tilting her head slightly to the side.

"Of course," Severus nodded, suprised by her answer. "Try not to be late this time," he concluded with some sarcasm in his voice before heading toward the door.

Hermione gently turned the key in the keyhole, and step aside to let Severus leave. But before Severus crossed the doorstep, she climbed on her tiptoes and kissed him on the cheek, catching Severus off guard. The contact between their two skins had been brief, but long enough for Severus not to wonder whether it had really happened or not.

"Good night, Severus," Hermione whispered before closing the door behind him, and he mumbled the same thing.

Definitely, things were not going as he had planned them.

* * *

_Mmh. I want to take things slow with this story, but I couldn't help but show the beginning of a friendship between these two. If you are eager for some smut, go read my other stories. :p _

_Thank you for reading this chapter!_


	7. Chapter 7

_**Things speed up...**_

* * *

**I'll Be Your Guide**

**Chapter VII**

* * *

It was the first time that Hermione Apparated alone since almost a year. When her feet met the ground, she felt a little dizzy, but nothing unbearable. She had Apparated a few feet from St. Mungo's, and she took a deep breath before entering the Hospital. Here she was, about to return into this Hospital full of memories, bad and good ones. In the end, the bad memories where the ones that were stuck in her mind, but she tried to forget about them. She was here for a good cause: she needed to save those people's lives, and she thought that she knew how to do it.

When she entered the building, she received the reception that she had thought she would have: all the employees' eyes were turned to her, and Hermione swallowed hard. She tried to recognise some known faces, but there were too many people around her. She felt her heart beat faster into her chest, and she had to breathe heavily not to faint. She wasn't used any more to be surrounded by so many people, and being the centre of the attention wasn't something that she wanted now, even if she knew that it was almost _necessary_. She needed to go through it, she thought, and at this exact moment, she felt a large hand fell on her shoulder.

With a jump, Hermione turned around to meet Severus' obsidian eyes.

"Hi...," she said in a whisper, happy to see a known face, after all.

"How are you doing, Hermione?," Severus asked, a serious expression on his face.

"I'm good, I guess. As good as I could be, given the circumstances."

"I think that it is a better idea to go into my office. Follow me," he said, and Hermione walked next to him, her shoulders lowered, as if she wanted to disappear into the dark and comforting shadow of the tall wizard. His presence next to her was relieving, and she didn't think that she could have done half of the things that she was doing now without him. Harry had tried several times to help her, to make her going out, but he had never succeeded. Severus Snape, in just a week, had managed to change her, and she didn't even know how he had done this miracle.

Severus finally opened the door of his office, and Hermione sneaked into it, avoiding the insistent looks of her former colleagues. But while Severus was about to close the door behind them, a voice raised from the corridor, interrupting his movement.

"Hermione?"

The young woman closed her eyes, and immediately recognised the owner of this voice. It was a woman's voice, close the one of Minerva McGonagall. A voice full of confidence, full of bravery, but at the same time, a voice marked by the years that had passed by.

Hermione turned around and met Eterna Jones' eyes. For a reason unknown to the young woman, even if she had some clues about it, the older woman's eyes were wet with tears, as if she wasn't believing her eyes.

"So the gossips were true...," Eterna whispered while taking a step towards them, entering into Severus' office. Without a word, Severus closed the door behind her. A silence settled into the room, and Hermione barely opened her mouth.

"I didn't mean to...," she began, but Eterna cut her off; she walked towards her and took Hermione in her arms, relieved to see the woman that she had considered like a daughter after a whole year.

"You left," Eterna said in a breath. "You didn't even leave a word, Hermione."

"I couldn't...," Hermione whispered, her eyes focused on Severus who was looking at them.

"I'm so sorry for you loss, Hermione. I can understand how hard it was for you. I just hope that Rose and you are better these days."

Hermione simply nodded, not eager to talk further about Ron; it was her past, and thinking about such things in the same place where he had died wasn't something necessary. Eterna turned to look at Severus, and shook her head.

"You... You knew, you were with her all the time...," she began in an accusing voice.

"You are wrong, Mrs. Jones. Hermione Granger and I started to work together on the case that I'm working on these last months just a week ago. As you may know, Mrs. Granger was one of the best Healers, and I think that her knowledge could be useful. And, in all honesty, we need to continue our work... _now_," Severus concluded with a smirk.

Eterna rolled her eyes, and with another hug for Hermione, she walked towards the door.

"I'm glad to know that you're back, Hermione," she said before leaving the room.

Hermione breathed heavily when Eterna closed the door behind her, and she sat on the chair. She didn't want to meet the inquisitive look of Severus. "_I'm so sorry for your loss_"... Severus wasn't an idiot, and she was sure that he had understood what Eterna had said earlier.

Severus went to his chair and waited for Hermione to look up at him. When she did, he asked her the only question that she didn't want to hear.

"I have something that I want to ask you about, Hermione... I know that it is something really intimate, but I think that it is necessary to talk about it," he began in a low voice. "Where is Rose's father?"

Hermione shuddered, uncomfortable to talk about it. Of course, they _needed_ to talk about it. Severus was an intelligent man, and it was just a matter of time before he discovered the truth. Her inquisitive questions about Merkhov had rung a bell in his mind, obviously, and she couldn't blame him for wanting to know more about Ron. Even though she knew that she had to talk to Severus, she tried to avoid the question.

"Why do you want to know? I mean, it has nothing to do with our work, as far as I'm concerned," she lied, not knowing exactly why. Postponing things seemed to be the better solution, in a way.

Severus pursed his lips, and continued to push her further. "I cannot say that it is possible for me to read your mind like an open book, but you have to know that I am not a stupid wizard. I saw how you reacted when I pronounced Merkhov's name last week, I saw how shaken you were when we talked about him. I noticed the lack of pictures of Ronald Weasley in your house. I know that he was a famous Auror," he explained in detail. "I also know that it is hard for you to even remember about it, I know what it is to lose someone who you loved dearly..."

"You don't know half of the pain I went through," Hermione cut him off in a whisper. "You don't know what it is to lose someone who gave you an amazing daughter; you don't know what it is like to lose someone who shared your life, who loved you during so many years," she concluded, close to tears.

After a moment of silence, Severus eventually answered. "I agree, I have never known something that strong. But I loved, even if I was not loved in return," he drawled, before muttering a spell that turned a piece of paper into a handkerchief. "Here, dry your tears," he simply said while giving it to her.

A minute passed, then two, and finally, Hermione spoke.

"Ron is dead," she said in a broken voice, saying something that she had tried to forget during a year. "He was in a mission, in an Auror mission with Harry, and everyone else. They were hunting Merkhov. You know who Merkhov is, don't you?," she asked in a hurry, looking up at him.

"I heard about him, a few times... But I am afraid that I do not know that much about him," Severus admitted.

Hermione sighed, and remembered about the raise of the Dark Wizard, three years ago; it wasn't that hard, though. She was thinking about him almost every day since a week.

"Merkhov is a Russian Wizard. I know, there is not a big Wizarding community over there, but he grew in Russia. He's forty-year-old, for what I know. Three years ago, Harry, as the Head of the Auror office, heard about a Dark Wizard, living in Russia, who wanted to overthrow the Britain Ministry of Magic. They didn't know why then, they just knew that he had to be stopped. During two years, they went to his search, they spent several months in Russia, tracking him down, searching for his followers. They were many; at least a hundred, and I think that they are even more now. Of course, the Ministry didn't want to frighten the population, so they kept these information secret.

"But you know," she continued, "some things cannot stay hidden forever. Eventually, Harry noticed that Merkhov was in England. How come? No one can Apparated that easily in another country. They need to have a permit to use the International Floo Network, but, for some reason, Merkhov managed to do it. We then learned that he had some followers in England too. It was a year ago."

Hermione remained silent after her story, as if she was shocked by her own words.

"Then, the Aurors started to pursue him _here_?," Severus asked. He was living as a hermit at the time, and he barely knew what had happened during his time spent in the North of France. When he had returned in England, it had been like a new life for him. Of course, he had read in the newspapers about some attacks related to someone called Merkhov, but he was so busy to work on the cure that he didn't really try to learn more about it. And after some time, even the Daily Prophet had stopped to talk about Merkhov, all of a sudden.

"Not exactly," Hermione rectified. "There were some attacks before. We didn't know that it was Merkhov to be honest, since no one thought that it was possible to enter the country that easily, without being caught. It was a big mistake, and I still think that we could have catch him a year ago."

"What went wrong with Mr. Weasley?," Severus asked slowly.

Hermione took a deep breath, trying to calm down before answering the Potion Master's question.

"Ron was in a mission, with all the Aurors. Harry thought that it was the only chance left to catch Merkhov before he started to kill even more people. At this point of the story, he had killed ten or twelve wizards, I don't even remember. But, even if every life is important, it is good to know that he didn't have the time to kill more people. Anyway, they were that close to catch him...," she said in a whisper. "But unfortunately, Merkhov was stronger than ever, and the Aurors... they just didn't think that his followers in England were such a large group. They were tricked, outnumbered, and Ron... Merkhov tortured him."

"Unforgivable Curse?," Severus asked.

"_Unforgivable Curse_," Hermione agreed, her head lowered. "He didn't make it. Ron, I mean: he didn't make it. His heart was weak, and... we lost him."

Silent tears were falling into her cheeks, and Severus didn't know what to do. He wanted to raise from his chair and take her in his arms, but he knew how inappropriate it was; he wasn't her friend. He just reached for her hand that was rested on the desk, and squeezed it lightly.

"Not a lot of people are aware of it. Of course, the St. Mungo's employees know, and the Ministry too. But the Ministry decided that it wasn't a good idea to let the population know that things were out of control. It was a secret mission for a reason, after all. We lost five Aurors that night, and Ron was one of them," she explained in a steady voice that surprised Severus. This woman was stronger that she seemed to be.

"I am sorry to hear it, Hermione," Severus said in a low voice.

"It's okay. It's been a year now, and I guess that I finally learned to live with it. It's painful, of course, but... I know that he doesn't suffer any longer," she said while wiping her tears. "But there is a reason why I asked you about Merkhov. I think that there is a link between this disease and the Dark Wizard."

"You think that it's some kind of "mass spell"...," Severus muttered, and Hermione nodded.

"I think that it's not cancer, Severus. I think that he's trying to weaken us. I don't know how, but I think that we have to learn more about it, to learn more about _him_."

"Don't you think that we should talk about this with the Minister of Magic?," Severus suggested.

"No," Hermione retorted quickly. "We don't know who his followers are, Severus. And what if someone from the Ministry is involved? Our work is to find a cure. And to find a cure, we need to learn more about this disease, or this spell, I don't know. I thought about it during all the weekend, and... We have to work together, Severus. _Together_," she emphasized.

Severus couldn't help but think that Hermione wanted to revenge Ron's death. But at the same time, she was right; if it was something like that, if she was right, they needed to keep these things secret to be able to find a cure to this spell. His fingertips were drumming on his wooden desk, and he eventually sighed.

"_Together_," he repeated.


End file.
